A person grows up in his mother's body before he is born. When a mother is upset, she is upset. If he is happy, he will be happy. When he comes to the world, he grows up with the warm love of his mother and the love of his father. Parents are the only people who cheered him when he was happy, cried when he cried, stood by him in any situation, encouraged him, gave their life, love and everything. 

However, some people forget how they grew up and those blessed people who gave their lives to take care of them when they were unable to do anything. This is a sad situation. Or, life time is not worth it. On the contrary, after his death, he remains in a vortex of a thousand regrets. That's what they say about time. A person should make good use of his time and appreciate his parents. It is a very right decision for him to give the love and attention that his parents gave him. My parents are my wealth. Because of them, I can get out of any situation. They are my people who have always helped me and taught me their life experiences. 

Up to this age, no matter what day I had, my parents always came to the first aid. They were happy and proud of me when I succeeded, and when I faced difficulties, they advised me to learn from my mistakes. They tried to make me study, even if it was hard for them. "Learn first. The rest will slowly come to you." - they said. 

If every person has two wings in front of him, that is, his parents, then he is a strong person. Regardless of the situation, a person should always move forward. Because he should never forget that his parents are behind him, trusting him and watching him. 

Our greatest wealth is the presence of our parents. Therefore, my dear person, appreciate your parents. Give them the love they give you. Appreciate your time and make the most of it, knowing that it's a treasure. Always try to make them happy by taking their blessings.

Oblokhulova Maknuna was born on July 18, 2003. 3rd year student of Termez State University. Likes to write creative works. The main goal is to always learn and never stop giving.

Final Sunsets

Here’s the poem I couldn’t write before,

but before I can deceive the world,

I must first find a way to write it.

I’m thinking again about that first

morning flight, traveling to Palestine,

Lebanon, Syria, Yemen, and all across Africa.

But then again, how can I travel again?

How can we rise before the sunrise,

when our people have bid farewell to their final sunsets,

locking themselves away in coffins of silence?

Our enemies are thrilled, overjoyed—

their wars are the reason I feel bound to UN’s wheelchair.

Dear letters A to Z, why do our stories lack a plot?

Why are our souls turning to stone in the eyes of strangers?

The sky opens and pours itself into our hearts,

while we open our hands to peace, only to fall bleeding,

betrayed by the silence of an enemy who said nothing.

If we were God’s favorite saints,

we’d be the bloodstained mirror in an abandoned church.

If we were civilian homes,

we’d be the feathers of lovebirds, caged in a dreamless cemetery.

If we love,

we fall broken.

If we own,

we are lost forever.

Fear!

For “the others” of the world

Fear is sharp thick hate
Often blooms in silence
Hate smells  fear!
Fear smells  hate!
Like a tappet
It’s verbiage 

                   lures and ensnares!
Brothers sisters
Offspring of fear          beware!
I know your hurt
Your past projected onto
My posterity
Future generations twirl
Uncomfortably in our debris
Heal your wound through me
We can be one       wisdom
Hate and  fear abide in symbiosis
Longing for aerialist       freedom
When hate chains me
Then happiness      overflows
From my core  viscera
I am a prophecy of peace
Or am I?
A brother to       “the others”
On the                                  waysides
The speck of   light
In the winter          night
Fear is sharp thick hate
A sorrowful    cacophony
Longing for aerialist    freedom
When it chains me…

Jacques Fleury is a Boston Globe featured Haitian-American Poet, Educator, Author of four books and literary arts student at Harvard University online. His latest publication “You Are Enough: The Journey to Accepting Your Authentic Self”  & other titles are available at all Boston Public Libraries, the University of Massachusetts Healey Library, University of  Wyoming, Askews and Holts Library Services in the United Kingdom, The Harvard Book Store, The Grolier Poetry Bookshop, Amazon etc…  He has been published in prestigious publications such as Muddy River Poetry Review, the Cornell University Press anthology Class Lives: Stories from Our Economic Divide, Boston Area Small Press and Poetry Scene among others…Visit him at:  http://www.authorsden.com/jacquesfleury.

Oppositely United

Can there be night without day

Can one just work without play

Can one just look up and see the sky

Without being down to say it is high

Tell me which door is the right side

And I shall open the left door wide

When all colors combine to be black

White shall be when all colors lack

Peace comes when a war has ended

War, after peace is taken for granted

Without people what is there to lead

Without a leader people set to bleed

Without worries, weakness, fear

How can courage lift up its spear

From one’s handicaps and weakness

Strength will protect and bear witness

Competitions and challenges around

Conflicts and disputes on the ground

How we desire unity without strife

Without opposites, there is no life.

The Sound of Music

Some people say poets discriminate against musicians.

How can that be, when poets write music themselves.

Every harmony in any arts or science is music in itself.

The music produced can only be heard by brains that resonate with its harmony.

Not hearing the music doesn’t mean that the music is absent.

Arrogance can make one blind, deaf, numb, or paralyzed.

And Nature laughs the loudest.

Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa was born January 14, 1965, in Manila Philippines. She has worked as a retired Language Instructor, interpreter, caregiver, secretary, product promotion employee, and private therapeutic masseur. Her works have been published as poems and short story anthologies in several language translations for e-magazines, monthly magazines, and books; poems for cause anthologies in a Zimbabwean newspaper; a feature article in a Philippine newspaper; and had her works posted on different poetry web and blog sites. She has been writing poems since childhood but started on Facebook only in 2014. For her, Poetry is life and life is poetry.

Lilian Kunimasa considers herself a student/teacher with the duty to learn, inspire, guide, and motivate others to contribute to changing what is seen as normal into a better world than when she steps into it. She has always considered life as an endless journey, searching for new goals, and challenges and how she can in small ways make a difference in every path she takes. She sees humanity as one family where each one must support the other and considers poets as a voice for Truth in pursuit of Equality and proper Stewardship of nature despite the hindrances of distorted information and traditions.

TO MY FRIEND

Speak big, but take a bigger bite of bread,  
For things don’t always go as planned ahead.  
Be eager to grow, don’t envy the rest,  
Luck won’t come just when you request.  

This world is wrapped in trials and strife,  
Sometimes you’ll stumble through the depths of life.  
Your stance, once tall, might bend in the breeze,  
And you’ll wonder when you fell to your knees.  

Tears may flow as regrets fill your chest,  
But time, once lost, won’t give you its rest.  
You can’t erase mistakes of the past,  
Life’s law is clear, they’re meant to last.  

Learn to rise when you stumble and fall,  
Set your goal high, let that be all.  
When faced with hurdles, fight and strive,  
Your foes will never arrive as friends.  

Action, action, don’t ever cease,  
Stand strong, my friend, never release.  
In this world, everyone has their fight,  
Never let them bend your might.  

Study and learn with all that’s provided,  
Your teachers guide you, always reminded.  
Defeat is the lesson, a gift in disguise,  
May God light your path toward the skies!

Saydinqulova Elenora Olimovna was born on June 24, 2008, in Kattakurgan district, Samarkand region. She is a 10th-grade student at the 66th General Education School in Kattakurgan district. In 2022, she took 3rd place in the district stage of the “Young Reader” competition. In 2022, she also secured 2nd place in the district stage of the “Zulfiyaxonim’s Daughters” contest and 2nd place in the district stage of the intellectual game “Zakovat,” becoming a participant in the regional stage. Her creative works have been published in the “Kattakurgan: Yesterday and Today” newspaper. She is a participant in international competitions and festivals. Her poems are regularly published in newspapers and magazines across the country.

Uzbekistan is a great country. Many famous scholars, poets and great generals have grown up in Uzbekistan. Nowadays, the children of Uzbekistan are among them.

Uzbekistan is a country rich in history, its historical monuments historical cities, historical objects and  manuscripts are still currently, they are preserved libraries, and most importantly in the museums of foreign countries.

Nowadays, many tourists visit the territory of Uzbekistan. At the same time tourism in Uzbekistan is developing in the city of Samarkand. There is a famous Ragistan square in the city of Samarkand it has Tillaqori, Sherdor, Uluğbek madrasahs.

Guests from faraway countries are visiting to see this. You will also enjoy these things if you come to Uzbekistan.

FLIM-FLAM MAN

Trump sells his brand: his face, his name, his myth.

While running for President, look what he touts on TV—

Silver coins stamped with a younger Trump face.

Digital Trading Cards showing his weathered old head

spliced to slim, muscular trunks in macho costumes.

Bit coin and crypto.

Bibles and sneakers.

T-shirts, of course, but also a genuine relic:

squares of the suit that he wore in that fateful debate

where he trashed Haitian immigrants, claiming:

“In Springfield, they’re eating the dogs.”

Racism’s part of his brand, and his brand’s not cheap.

For $100,000, you can buy a Trump watch—

200 grams of gold, 100 real diamonds;

a timepiece for oldsters who need to feel elite.

Yes, Trump will sell anything. Lies turn a tidy profit.

He’s bought the Republican Party, and many in Congress.

Bailed out by bankruptcies, facing jail-time for convictions,

Trump never pays for his capers, never repents.

He’s running for President, scamming his way back to power.

Should we give a flim-flam man a nation to sell?